


I'd Follow You Anywhere

by roguefaerie (samidha)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: 2017-2018, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anatomy of a Pirate, Becoming a Pirate, Canon Queer Character, Dreams, Dreamsharing, Families of Choice, Fire, First Kiss, First Meetings, Happy Ending, Holly Poly, Home, Homecoming, James McGraw Becomes James Flint, Magical Realism, Multi, One Shot, Polyamory, Polyamory Constellations, Polyamory Negotiations, Timey-Wimey, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/pseuds/roguefaerie
Summary: James, Miranda and Thomas are in love. It is a love that can see them through uncertainty, and is strong enough to propel them on a journey to safety.





	I'd Follow You Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knight_tracer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knight_tracer/gifts).



> Written for Holly Poly 2017.
> 
> A huge team of people helped me to edit/beta this story and bring some things out of it. It is still intentionally a little bit timey-wimey, as suits a happy ending in this universe. I lucked out and it seemed my recipient likes the kind of stories that I like to tell, so I hope that they are happy with the kinds of liberties that I chose to take. :) This is a story that fell within those parameters that I could really personally enjoy writing. 
> 
> Also, finding a happy ending required some building, and maneuvering that was ultimately fun to do. I hope the results are satisfactory!
> 
> There is a playlist also! If you'd like one:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/121274586/playlist/2YcITw6fdzZKLw0lV57iCm

It was going to be difficult, in the way that life always managed to be, to stay ahead of the gossip. That’s one major thing that McGraw realized when he landed in port and his heart was taken almost immediately.

He felt it, somehow, even before he met them, that he’d moving toward something that would change his life forever. There was something about anchoring the ship that he felt in his bones, something to do with time and the end of loneliness and emptiness that had dogged him even at sea.

He hadn’t known how to put into words what was missing.

The sea was his own, but as a friend would be, someone who understood the ins and outs somehow of his days and nights.

The sea was its own mistress, and did not owe him anything, and so he had grown lonely.

For as he could feel himself part of a crew, there was something else that his heart longed for instead.

Doing more than _being_ , perhaps.

Doing more than riding the waves, alone in the crowd of the crew.

*~*~*

There was nothing _daring_ about being James McGraw, controlled and installed in the Navy, coming in and coming out on the tides.

Perhaps that was it.

Perhaps that was all that it was.

*~*~*

Miranda met him at the dock. Oh, she wasn’t _planning_ on meeting James McGraw there, for she didn’t know, not really, that he was coming, or that seeing her there would make his heart speed up.

Her hair was loose around her face and he knew as he watched her that, given the chance, she would have kicked her shoes off and waded into the sea, or let her legs swing easily on the edge of the dock. 

He knew she was of the sea herself, or she wouldn’t have been there at the dock, watching the ships roll in like someone who knew who she was waiting for.

He knew as he watched her that he could look into those eyes forever, and that he would do whatever he needed to to bring a smile to her lips.

He stepped onto the dock and she watched him walk in her direction. As their eyes met, it was as if all who were around them were quieted.

*~*~*

She came again and watched him work near the outside of the ship. Each day she came. And they kept a respectable distance. He kept his body turned toward the ship, but at an angle so that he could still spy her in a furtive way.

He had not known many women who would spend this amount of time watching seamen work. Yet the way she looked out over the water was familiar to him as well. She longed for adventure, somewhere down in the depths of her.

He could plainly see that if she asked him for much of anything he would give it to her.

*~*~*

The first thing she asked him, as he moved from the boat, down the dock, to the sand, on the fifth day, was whether his name was McGraw.

He smiled, feeling himself brighten, and nodded. “It is, my lady,” he said.

She smiled back. “Well. Then hello.”

*~*~*

He carried her hello with him. And he could feel himself coming back to life in some way. Somehow.

Her name, she had told him, was Miranda Hamilton.

And he carried that with him as well.

*~*~*

“Mr. McGraw,” she said softly one day as he passed her, “I am just going home now for tea and I wondered if you might join me.”

He blinked. “Ah,” he said, suddenly slightly flustered. His shipmate heard his slight stumble and he heard McGuinness holding back a chuckle. “Indeed, my lady,” he said with some force. “I would never decline such an invitation.”

“Oh. Well, that’s wonderful, then,” she said, opening her mouth again just slightly as if there was more that she might say. And then she added: “I was hoping that I might catch you all readying for your own tea.”

“Indeed,” he said, sensing there was yet more to be said.

They left together, and only in her carriage did she say, soft and conspiratorial, “There is someone who will be joining us for tea. I very much would like for you to meet him.”

He couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at this, and his heart sped again, wondering what exactly would be expected of him.

Still, he knew that as a gentleman of the Navy he had enough composure to get through a great many things.

He did allow himself to wonder a bit at her tone.

*~*~*

They entered the house quietly together, with Miranda Hamilton in the lead, as would only be proper.

She brought him into a sitting room and there was a man, dressed in a suit that matched his eyes perfectly.

And that was when James McGraw felt everything stop for the second time. He could not pull his gaze away. He would be swallowed, as if by the sea, and he welcomed it. And--

*~*~*

Of course. Of course she was _Mrs._ Hamilton, and he had known, in the back of his mind where he hadn’t wanted to know, and now--

*~*~*

The man just across from him smiled a smile that strangely mirrored Miranda’s own, with slightly rueful edges.

There was such an immense beauty in his smile that James immediately ached with it.

“I see Miranda has sprung my existence upon you,” the man said. His tone was soft and somber, as if he expected rejection, although he often hid it well. “Forgive me,” he said. “I am Thomas Hamilton, and I must assure you that she meant nothing--nothing was meant by this, it is ah...well, I am not the most social of creatures, and she did ask me to accompany her to the docks. I…simply…” He shrugged. “Sometimes things like that are...considered unbecoming.”

McGraw blinked. “Well…There is always propriety,” he said. 

“I...wished to meet you.” It hung there in the air for a moment before he added, “Miranda has told me so much about you.”

Something radiated off of Thomas Hamilton like a beacon. 

James swallowed.

He had the distinct feeling of having no idea what to do. He felt caught, yet if he was, he was a willing captive. Fear coursed through him but also hope and longing. Caught as he was, he felt the shifting of the tides in Thomas Hamilton’s eyes. They were the most intense he had ever seen.

“It’s wonderful to have you here for tea,” Thomas said simply, and it was then that James could remember to breathe.

*~*~*

James was lodged some distance from the home of his new acquaintances, but he ducked out of his paltry office frequently over the next few weeks and months and was met with a carriage to take him on social outings. Indeed, it was his duty to remain behind when the ship left, as their liaison, and he told himself that he would not miss the sea.

*~*~*

“I spoke with the captain of your ship before they were to leave,” Thomas said to James, quiet and reserved as he always was, content to busy himself with matters to be handled easily in his own home. “About how much of a help you have been.” 

This is something that James believed. At his own relative rank he held sway, especially when it came to skill with the written word, and so he and several other officials-by-birth have been exchanging letters. There was more than one way to keep abreast of the politics of the day.

It was known that the relative recluse, Thomas Hamilton, had made a fast friend, and no one wished to be the one who separated a nobleman from someone who could understand him. This was especially true given how rare this might be to a man who kept to himself so much, as Hamilton did.

If anything further was said about this, it was only in whispers.

*~*~*

“You can see,” Miranda said coyly to James one day near the beginning of his time in the city, as they stood near the window with the velvet drapes pulled, in relative privacy, “Why I felt it necessary to bring you here, to him. To introduce you.”

“Yes,” he said, though he could barely breathe. She did not say more, but gently pressed a hand to his back as though she knew that he needed to be steadied.

He did not say that Thomas stopped his breath in his chest, or how the two of them were some of the only people he considered to understand him. How he would stop the world for each of them.

She held gently to him to show she already knew these things.

*~*~*

“Thomas and I,” Miranda said to James one morning when they were alone again for a time, “We were family friends. It was known we would be placed together at every opportunity.”

He nodded, remaining quiet.

“We appreciate each other in many ways and I suppose this makes it a smart match, would you say?”

He didn’t know what to say; there were no words in his world for what he was feeling for these two souls.

She smiled a little bit. “It can be lonely, sometimes, especially for our Thomas.” Such a choice of words and yet-- “He does try, but he simply doesn’t find that he gets on with very many people.” She drew closer to him, her glove gently touching his coat. “But I knew. You see, I know Thomas in some ways better than anyone else does, except Thomas himself of course.” And then she stepped back again, her eyes meeting his.

There was a long moment as they regarded each other. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and as if on cue soft footfalls on carpet announced Thomas moments before he cleared his throat.

“James,” Thomas said, “Please do join us for dinner.” It was a frequent invitation these days, but the first one extended directly to him by Thomas.

This meant something new and different and here it was at last.

James’ pulse thundered in his ears and he accepted the invitation.

He would.

*~*~*

He often thought of Miranda, calling to the sea for that which would stem the tide of loneliness, restlessness. She was the one who had reminded him the sea could bring him anywhere that he needed to be. And she was able to hold him close enough to help him onto land. Yet it was Thomas who reminded him what the land was for, and reminded him to anchor. In the world, in himself, in their sudden exquisite and painful joy.

James felt a release of so many pounds he had been carrying, so many weighted, nameless things. He sat with Thomas and felt the world spinning. The axes had changed. The rules of every game, too. Political ones most of all.

James was rising anew.

The moment he had seen Miranda, he knew they had put trust in each other--trust that shown through and had helped Thomas come out of his shell to breathe, in some ways for the first time.

And in that, they had made everything right in their world.

The world was alight.

*~*~*

The three of them were intoxicated. Freedom sang in their bones. There was such a release of energy that it could knock a man over.

And yet, too, the times of enforced quiet became excruciating in a different way. The rigidity of their lives chafed differently. James knew that Miranda was thinking of the sea again at times, and so did he. Thomas was in many ways the one landlocked among them.

He did not want to fear anymore, or to hide.

Behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, they each memorized the sensation of the others holding their hands. And as they did, their breaths were deeper and calmer, and the scent of the sea drifted into the Hamilton estate. 

*~*~*

Weeks after his first meeting with Thomas, the three of them sat up late so that it was just them and the quiet, brandy and smoke. Those who knew the Hamilton family were well aware that Mrs. Hamilton would not be dissuaded from social company no matter how her inclusion might be construed. This was one way in which those who stood watch over the Hamilton estate no longer fought her. After all, if she was going to maintain things in a reasonable manner then she was respected as was befitting the social organizer of a home.

Many knew she was often correct about those who would be fitting friends for her husband, and he bid everyone involved to trust the judgment of the lady of the house.

She deflected any questions with a practiced ease. It had always been known, since they were young, that Miranda was fiercely protective of the boy she would one day marry, and perhaps this had been a factor in final decisions, such as they were then.

It was a stroke of good fortune for both of them, though few knew exactly how much this was true, or why.

Surely a Navy man could hold his own amidst this family, besides.

 

*~*~*

 

There was a time for political machinations and there were also the quieter times as well, that belonged to them.

A large wooden door of oak separated the wing with the bedrooms from the rest of the house. As a guest on nights when social gatherings went too late, James slept in a guest room behind the oaken door.

Three voices could be heard rising and falling in the certainty of an easy camaraderie that few had seen in the likes of the Hamilton home. Still, there was something about seeing Thomas Hamilton smile at his companions, also a rare sight.

A calm fell over the house and it would not be disturbed.

*~*~*  
Yet on some nights, it was behind their oaken door and in the absolute quiet, with hushed tones that they sometimes allowed themselves to admit the dangers of the game they played.

Miranda took upon herself the rumors that she could, an expert at deflecting them, and all that she needed was to know there was support where she needed it most.

Yet sometimes Thomas gripped James’ hand tighter and said softly, “I don’t know how all this is meant to turn out. Yet I would choose this again.”

“We must be careful,” James said, “I shall be careful. This I swear.”

“I feel something coming,” Thomas said. “For all of us.”

A few days later, it was late one night that James was spending behind the oaken door. An extra drink had found its way to him and now he slept heavily. And he dreamed.

*~*~*

_He saw three bodies entangled, and they were not those of himself, Thomas, and Miranda, although something in him felt a warmth flood his body as he witnessed them together. Curled safely around each other in the darkness of evening._

_One by one they opened their eyes and regarded him._

_“My good man,” said the man who lay in the tangle of limbs between two women, “We come to you to show you your future, as it were. There are things you must know. There are things that are worth doing if you wish to protect your happiness.”_

_“My what?”_

_“Your happiness. With Thomas and Miranda.”_

*~*~*

His eyes flew open, a reflexive motion, and he bolted out of sleep. He was breathing heavily. How could it be spoken so plainly, and by someone he didn’t know? He ran toward where he knew that Thomas and Miranda lay together.

Both of them were awake as well, with the look of two people just woken from something startling.

The only one who seemed to have composed herself at all was Miranda, and she spoke first. “Did you see them?” she asked.

“Did you dream?” Thomas asked as he reached out to James and cupped his arm gently with one hand.

“Yes. I just had the wildest dream. Of… of people who knew of us. What were they--? How did they--?”

Miranda nodded. “There was a man and two women. He told me his name is Jack Rackham,” Miranda said.

Thomas was in agreement. There was a fire in his eyes. “He was with two lovers. Just as we are. And he urged us to leave at once. They said they would meet us, if only we could put together a means to arrive.”

They laughed a bit nervously about the dream over breakfast, the men exchanging knowing looks. It would be Miranda who wished to take to the sea. But the truth was that the dream was shared in three places, and in three ways.

They discussed it when they were once more behind the oaken door.

“The others are named Anne and Max,” Thomas had said in his characteristic soft tone. “They have what we have. Only…”

_Only…_

“They are free,” Miranda added.

“Can we have that, my sweetheart?” Thomas asked, looking around at the trappings of the home which had been his for so long, and the burdens that came with it.

“Thomas, my love, I will raze this very house to the ground if it means our chance at freedom is at hand.”

They turned to look at James, a united front, and they were nothing but sheer beauty to his gaze.

“I’d follow you anywhere,” he said. “Say the word.”

“I’ve the means for a ship,” Thomas said, “Squirreled away. Our very own. It would be small, a sloop, but ours. It has been Miranda’s dream since she was barely taller than the grass.”

She smiled. “Well--I would not have left without the family I have wanted. That had to come first.”

“And now we have that,” Thomas said. “At long last.”

“Well worth the wait,” Miranda said. And then she grinned, kissing both of them in turn. “Who would have guessed--our very own sailor.”

Thomas stepped forward and took James’ hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of James’ hand between the thumb and first finger. “Our sailor,” he said, and leaned in for a kiss that James’ body was achingly ready for.

Again, he felt the gentle pressure at his back that meant Miranda was there, holding him steady for just long enough before she retreated slightly. He heard her withdrawing a book from the shelf and continuing toward her room, and it was then that he kissed Thomas back, fiercely, swallowing down Thomas’ panting and whimpers.

It was decided, without question. They would not go backwards. They would save themselves. The three of them were set to sail away, with the beating heart of Nassau to guide them home.  
.  
*~*~*

As time went, Captain James Flint came to be known as the man who lit a match and razed the Hamilton estate to the ground. A fugitive of the law, he took off by boat. The whereabouts of the younger Hamilton family was unknown, assumed to have perished in the blaze. A Mrs. Barlow was at times seen with the Captain, and at other times a Mr. Drummond with a piercing gaze, who served a the ship’s accountant and scribe.

At times the Barlow woman stole aboard the ship, even with shorn hair and a pirate’s gear.

When the time was right, they landed at Nassau. More experienced seamen saw what they needed to in James, and they joined his crew and a bigger boat was found, leaving the sloop to Miranda and sometimes Thomas, who together dreamed of the sea. 

On land at Nassau, for the first time, James was himself. The three of them belonged here, just as the sand and the tides did. As Thomas had taught him the value of land, he finally felt at home with the people who had made such a journey with him, captivated and utterly in love with all that he was as James. They were those who had seen him both as James McGraw the Navy officer, and his new, determined self--that of Captain James Flint.

As Flint, he had an air of being all business, and he had learned much of deflecting questions from his time with Miranda in particular. He traded and made sure that he was known to be fair and a good man to do business with, as pirates went. The myth of fire followed him and lent to his dealings an air of seriousness and finality. Still, he was grounded, for someone who had possibly committed such a crime. There was something about that groundedness, a man who knew both the sea and the land, that helped his reputation as well.

it was also known without question he would protect his interests and those with whom he sailed. 

In time, there was a period of safety and Flint and his lovers came out of their cocoon to spread their wings a bit farther and meet some of the others on the island upon which they lived and traded. It was a decision made quickly together, as if the moment had been reached.

Soon after this, they walked the beach together in a loose knot. 

It was there that the three they had all seen in their dream came to be known to them in the flesh. The recognition was nearly instantaneous.

They sat for a round of rum and spoke.

Two long-time lovers, Anne and Jack, were meeting their match among the women of Nassau. Yet any animosity was set aside for now. On this day, Max was with them. They stood together as three lovers.

They had looked out to sea for an answer to a question, the solution to an unnameable desire, and then they had waited, much as Miranda had all that time ago. For the sea held such things, for those who were called there.

They saw the moment for what it was. They sat and experienced the comfort of each other’s company, feeling the pull of what had come before. They knew without speaking that in reaching through time, on the breath of the sea, they had found each other.

As the rum began to run low, they shook hands one by one and looked into each other’s eyes. A silent compact as recognition shown on every face. Outside their makeshift bar, the wind picked up.

They felt the power as hope flared in six hearts. They each knew they had come from disparate places seeking the same things.

They spoke of the pull of this land and how something new could be forged. A place away from all of the pain and fear that had brought them all this far. 

They spoke for hours, until the sun had gone down and the moon was high, about the wait, and the ways that protection would be needed. They discussed their common goals and how a unified front could help things grow and steady.

They were committed.

In this new world, they knew they would build and maintain a peace for the pirates who called the place home. 

This peace would not be presided over by any government force. No negotiations had been made for pardons. This would be built without any of those trappings. 

Here were the six who had felt the pull to unite and protect a safer harbor. 

Here, when the time was right, they would experience the freedom to build together. Perhaps, again in time, a constellation would bloom of those in need of the right type of kindred spirits. They could hold the vision, and they knew that was something they would fight for. On the strength of this understanding of how things were built with the steadiest of hands, they would create a united Nassau. Together.

They emerged from the rum hut with renewed purpose. They left in step with one another, then split once more into two groups, with plans to send word for each other the next day.

The beach was quiet and the moon bright in the sky.

It was then that James said in his gruff yet firm voice, “We’re home.” And he tilted his head slightly and kissed Thomas there, under the moon, as he pulled gently on Miranda’s hand and she curled her body against his. They held each other for a long moment, feeling the burst of emotions that comes from a task well done and completed.

Each one realized in turn that they could finally breathe. And as they did, deep and long, the scent of the sea followed soon and filled their lungs.


End file.
